Doublebagged Redemption
by Kevin3
Summary: A marriage counselor gives a couple a rather unusual exercise to help them learn to communicate: writing fanfiction shortstories. Features several ficlets around the HarryGinny ship see inside, though the story itself is not fluff by any means.
1. Marriage Counseling

Just a quick word before starting. This story features several ficlets around the Harry-Ginny ship, a few of which are substantial enough to be considered full fanfictions in their own right (The Counsel of Weasleys in rough draft is about 5,000 words.) In the chapter menu, any chapters beginning with a T or G followed by a number are the ficlets (T1, G1, T2, etc.)

Oh, and I promise to update as quickly as possible (...as long as you all agree to review) :-)

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**Chapter 1**

_Marriage Counseling_

"You know what I hate, Henry? I hate how she always nags."

"Nags? Reminding you about something is _not_ nagging."

"Yes it is! And you do it all the time, and it drives me up the wall!"

"You deserve it, especially after you put your muddy shoes up _yet again_ on the couch's arm rest."

"That was _one_ time, and you won't shut up about it!"

"Oh, oh! And he snores!"

"I do not!"

"Yes you do! You're so loud you woke up the neighbor's cat one night!"

"Wait, wait, wait... you two, please calm down." Henry looked at the pair and knew he had his work cut out for him. Or at least he would if he suspected they would be back; he recognized well the couples that came for counseling once and never returned, and these two seemed like likely candidates. He could see why they probably fell in love and got married in the first place - even though they were both in their mid-thirties, neither could be described as unattractive. Unfortunately, he dealt with that a lot; love based solely on youth faded faster than even youth did.

"Ok," Henry said, trying to calm things down. "Do you share any hobbies?"

"Not really," George answered. Teresa shook her head a few seconds later, not coming up with anything.

"Well, how did you meet?" Henry asked, not deterred.

George blushed a bit and didn't say anything. Teresa replied, "We actually met at a Harry Potter convention in London..."

"That's great!" Henry said, smiling, ignoring the sulking look George had. "Well, I'll tell you what, I want to meet with you a week from today..."

"Can't," George interrupted, unable to hide a bit of glee from his voice. "I'm heading out on a business trip on Friday, and I won't be back until Tuesday, so I won't be able to come on Monday evening."

Henry smiled again, but this time it was relatively forced - he'd been right about them, or at the very least George. "Well, two weeks from today, then. Anyway, I have an exercise I want the two of you two to do. I want you to each write a short story of Harry Potter, of the Harry Potter world. They both need to have a romantic aspect to it, though it doesn't have to be a romance story by any means. Afterwards, you need to share them with each other and talk about both. You'll need to do this every two days, and I want you to spend the day between thinking about what you both wrote and what was said afterwards. Sound alright?"

"It sounds perfect," Teresa said quickly in a firm voice to preempt any objection George might have.

"Well, then," Henry said, forced smile still in place, "I hope I will see you in two weeks."

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"I can't believe you told him I was a Harry Potter fan," George grumbled, stepping in through the front door.

"I told him _we're_ Harry Potter fans," Teresa countered. "Besides, it sounds fun to me."

"It does?" George asked, completely surprised. "I think it's just going to be one more thing for us to complain about."

"You realize that you're _already_ complaining, dear?" Teresa said, rolling her eyes.

"See! Look, we haven't even started writing!" George bemoaned.

Personally, George saw this as a consequence of going to the marriage counseling in the first place. If there was anything worse than having to sit through an hour of his wife complaining about every little thing he did, it was getting to come home and invite her to complain some more.

"Well, should we get started?" Teresa asked. To tell the truth, she was a bit sick of this already. It's not like it was her idea, but she at least was trying to make the best of this. George might be many things, but an avid reader he was not, and she privately felt her writing would probably be wasted on him.

George sighed too heavily to be completely theatric-free. "Might as well."

The two separated; George went into the study to type on the computer while Teresa went to the other end of the house, sprawling atop the bedroom's comforter with paper and pencil in hand. Two hours later, they met in the living room and silently handed each other their work.

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	2. G1 The Final Battle

**Chapter 2**

_G1 - The Final Battle_

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The Final Battle

By George Michaelson

Harry ducked behind a parapet narrowly dodging an errant spell from below. The purplish beam continued past him to the stone castle wall, sending a handful of stones outward in a miniature explosion. "Inflamare!" he cast back, incinerating the ground beneath two death eaters feet. It was a desperate battle - students, teachers, and the occasional auror versus the bulk of the Death Eaters forces; Harry had always imagined Hogwarts to be the locus of the fight against Voldemort, but he never imagined it to this extent!

"The Dementors are coming!" Ron bellowed out from the watch tower, somehow managing to be heard over the din of battle.

"Patronuses!" Harry called out, eyes narrowing hawk-like at the wreath of blackness closing upon the castle. It was hard to pick out individual dementors from the swarm at this distance, and it looked more like an amorphous blob of black satin fabric; Harry knew, though, that they wouldn't take more than a handful of seconds to close the distance to the school.

"Expecto Patronum!" several members of Dumbledore's Army shouted, producing an odd gamut of ghostly white forms. Harry's skin prickled with goosebumps as the air suddenly chilled around the castle, watching as the dementors swooped down upon the castle, trying to take the defenders by surprise while they focused on the wizards and creatures attacking them along the ground level.

"NOW!" Harry called out loudly. Just as the dementors were about to reach the upper ramparts in what looked like one long slip of tattered black robe, the patronuses charged. The dementors shrieked from the counterattack, several of which were caught by the patronus and were destroyed, leaving a fine cloud of black dust in their wake. More importantly, the defenders upon the ramparts were still free from the grief and sorrow the dementors wished to sew among their ranks.

"Harry Potter!" came a loud bellow from below, and Harry squinted to see who was calling him out.

There he was. Voldemort.

"End this, Harry Potter. Face me, once and for all. Or are you waiting until I kill every living thing in this castle?"

Harry steeled himself and nodded.

"No, Harry," Jordan said. "That's nuts. We're going to win this, you don't need to go down there!"

Dean nodded. "He's right, Harry - we're winning. Ten more minutes and he won't have any forces left at all."

"No, you two, I do," Harry replied back, a trace of a smile on his face. "Trust me."

It was almost surreal; the dozen giants, host of dementors, ranks of infereri, and handful of death eaters retreated away as Harry walked down the castle stairs; by the time he reached the grounds, only Voldemort was within spell's distance.

The duel was mesmerizing; spell after spell was cast and countered, created and dodged. But finally, in the end, Harry managed to hit Voldemort with Expelliarmus, catching the only other wand with Fawkes' feather inside in his other hand. One final spell, and Voldemort collapsed on the ground, finally defeated.

Harry turned around, ignoring the pain in his left leg where Voldemort had managed to hit him with a crucio spell. He looked up at the castle rampart and saw countless pairs of eyes staring at him - but only one of them mattered.

He rushed up the stairs back to where he'd been standing the bulk of the battle. "Ginny," he asked softly, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Ginny, about that deal we made... to back away from each other in case Voldemort tried to hurt anyone close to me..."

Ginny, however, preempted him and gave him a deep passionate kiss. "Your bedroom or mine?" she whispered afterwards with a grin.

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George looked up as Teresa gave a giant upset cough at reading the last bit of her husband's story. Shaking his head, he went back to reading hers, which was a much slower (and in his opinion, stuffy) read.

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	3. T1 The Dearth of Night

**Chapter 3**

_T1 - The Dearth of Night_

George looked up as Teresa gave a giant upset cough at reading the last bit of her husband's story. Shaking his head, he went back to reading hers, which was a much slower (and in his opinion, stuffy) read.

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The Dearth of Night

By Teresa Michaelson

Pains coursed through Ginny's bosom, an emptiness and coldness that only love's absence could inspire. "Harry..." she whispered to herself, somehow hoping the name would bring her relief from the silent agony she'd endured since he told her those hated words the year before. But while the hope was not answered, memories washed over her; moments that seemed perfect when they arrived, now seemed like an icy breeze that chilled the heart when played back before her eyes.

His voice, his hands, and his kisses. All of them girded a bubble paradise which she longed to once again throw herself into. Now, though, Time had slipped that from her grip and left instead toying memories, hollow shells containing nothing. She wanted him here. She wanted to hold him, to let him envelop her into his arms and feel the dark cold despair from the pit of her stomach fade into the peace his mere presence gave her. Ginny lethargically slipped from her bed covers, pajamas doing little to shield her from the cool October night's air. Shivering slightly, she looked out the window.

Harry squirmed under his covers, a sweat running down the spine of his back despite the chilly temperature. Gnarled bedsheets and feverish thoughts gripped his brain, taunting him of the uncertainty of future. "Why?" he half-moaned, half-awake. It was as if his soul had found the perfect compliment to itself in Ginny, entwined and meshed so completely and fully that when they were forced to part it shone a harsh light upon the weaknesses of his being, the holes and gaps in his heart which his love had been able to fill without trial or effort.

Her laughter, her face, and her touch. All of them seemed to both nestle and lift his spirit. The purgatory fate had cast him into was all the more despairing from the divine moments of heaven that she'd given to him. He wanted her here. He wanted to hold her, to feel their bodies gently nestle against each other, driving away the piercing loneliness as they lovingly cradled one another to sleep. Almost possessed, Harry's frame rose from the bed. The occasional quidditch magazine and misplaced sock or shirt did little to dull the stone floor's chill upon his bare feet. Eyes half open and even less awake, he gazed out the window.

Though but a small curve of tower separated them, it was as a universe's span. No sight, nor sound, nor touch greeted either as their breath slowly fogged the old glass panes facing them. A ritual shared, their thoughts slowly wound down to nothingness, the dwelling on the love built over the entirety of a decade fading back to the innermost recesses of their minds and souls. With one long last soft sigh, both turned from the windowsill.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, slowly collapsing upon the bed before falling into a light and unsatisfying slumber.

"Ginny," Harry whispered in return, a sad murmur before his mind once again slipped blessedly blank in grey sleep.

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	4. Unpleasant Discussion

**Chapter 4**

_Unpleasant Discussion_

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Teresa watched with a cross between amusement and disgust as George finished up reading her short story. She had to admit, she was taking a perverse sense of satisfaction in the fact that he probably wouldn't understand the slightest bit of it.

"But nothing happened!" George complained, setting the paper down.

Teresa rolled her eyes. "Yes, things happened," she argued as if he were a child. "You know, not all journeys are physical ones."

"What?" George asked, confused, before shaking his head. "All they did is pine after each other for a few minutes and then go to sleep!"

"It was supposed to show their pain."

"It was painful, alright."

This definitely rubbed Teresa the wrong way, and she picked George's story back up as though she was brandishing a sword. "Painful? No, George, that would be _your_ story. It's the boys-only club against Voldemort!"

"It wasn't the 'boys-only' club! It was Dumbledore's Army!"

"Yes, but do you even mention a female character? Where's Hermione? Where's Luna? Where's Ginny? Heck, where's McGonagall? All the story has is Harry, Ron, Lee Jordan, Dean Thomas, and Voldemort!"

"Ginny wa..."

"... Ginny," Teresa interrupted, "was only thrown in at the end so Harry could have some stupid 'I need some luvin' schmoltzy ending."

"Hey, now," George protested. "We were supposed to have an element of romance to it. Besides, I thought it was pretty good!"

"Pretty good?" Teresa laughed unkindly. She then assumed a breathy voice, "Ohh, ohhh Harry... Your Bedroom or mine, you hot hero stud!"

"More realistic than your Harry," George retorted with quite a bit of heat. "A seventeen year old boy finding someone his 'soul meshes with' that highlights to him the 'weakness of his being' - do you even know anything about guys? I mean, we've been married for 13 years, and you're really _this_ clueless about us?"

"Oh here we go again," Teresa groaned. "_I'm_ the clueless one about the opposite gender?"

"Have I - or for that matter, _any_ man - gave you the idea that we're up sleepless nights thinking about the 'completeness' of our soul? Let alone in our teens?"

"Jerry McGwire." Teresa crowed.

"Oh, good," George said sarcastically. "Yes, let's put a _fictional character_ up to show us what the typical man is like. Good show, Teresa. Face it, your story is complete garbage."

"Then so is yours!" Teresa said with a bit of a shrill in her voice.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

With that, the couple angrily parted for opposite ends of the house once more.

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	5. Another Attempt

**Chapter 5**

_Another Attempt_

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Needless to say, the next day Teresa and George were at a tense mix between wanting to not say a word to the other and wanting to have another go at each other's stories. One of time's vices was spawning ideas for even worse insults or snipes than could be thought up at the angry moment they were needed; George sorely longed to tell Teresa she should've become a writer for teen angst movie parodies, while Teresa wanted just as badly to let George know he missed his calling making plots for bad James Bond movies. Yet, blessedly, neither broached the subject, and by the time the next day rolled around their blood had cooled off about the subject.

"George," Teresa asked in a decidedly neutral tone, "Are we doing another story?"

"Sure," George said. This took Teresa by surprise, but it was because George had been actually giving a bit of thought to what the next writing would be - and he had something _interesting_ in mind.

Several seconds later, Teresa got over her shock, and said, "Well, alright." Once again, they both parted for opposite ends of the house, and only returned once they'd finished their second story. George took the sheet of paper with Teresa's writing on it and began to read. Or more accurately, skim - he was far more interested in his wife's reaction to his writing.

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_If you're reading this, please review._

_By the way, sorry for the short lengths of this and the last chapter, which is why I'm posting them both at the same time._


	6. T2 The Second Diary

**Chapter 6**

_T2 - The Second Diary_

George took the sheet of paper with Teresa's writing on it and began to read. Or more accurately, skim - he was far more interested in his wife's reaction to his writing.

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**The Second Diary**

_Teresa Michaelson_

"Really, Ginny, it's only fair, he innocently read your diary back in your first year..." the red-haired girl whispered to herself as she crept up the staircase.

Ginny conveniently ignored the fact that it wasn't really her journal, but Tom Riddle's, and that Harry hadn't even known it was in her possession until the whole affair was over. Ultimately, though, it didn't matter, because she was just using it as an excuse for what she was doing now: sneaking up to Harry's dormitory to pilfer his diary. She knew he wasn't the sort to write in a diary every night, but Ron had mentioned offhandedly earlier in the afternoon that he sometimes wrote once or twice a week in it.

It wasn't too hard to find the diary, given that she knew about the invisibility cloak. The middle dresser drawer appeared to have nothing in it, so she reached in and felt around with her arm, sporting a triumphant grin when her hand felt the smooth silky feel of the cloak where her eyes told her nothing existed. She carefully unwrapped the invisible cloak, revealing a small leather-bound book within. Ginny quickly took the diary and retreated to her room with it.

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**Sept 1st**

Finally back at Hogwarts! Like always, I counted down the days today - it's always a great day when I leave the Dursleys for nine months, but this time it's forever!

Actually, I wouldn't have minded the Hogwarts Express taking a bit longer, though, because Ginny and I somehow had a compartment to ourselves the entire trip up. Granted, it was one of the smaller rooms in the second to last segment of the train, but it certainly beats packing five or six people in one of the usual compartments. And, though I could never admit it to her after last year, but the thing that made it so perfect was that it was her, that it was just me and Ginny.

I don't think there was anything we didn't talk about, sitting next to each other on the plush seats, but I mostly remember how our legs would occasionally brush against each other when the train rocked or how our sides would gently collide into each other when there was a bump in the tracks. Each time it happened, she'd blush just a little bit, and I couldn't resist smiling. She's way too beautiful when she blushes. Actually, she's just way too beautiful ordinarily.

**Sept 4th**

Tonight was, quite possibly, one of the best nights of my life. I told Ron all about it, and he just quirked an eyebrow - I don't think it was that he minded or anything, just that he didn't understand. To tell the truth, I'm not sure I do either, but I still can't stop grinning.

Most of the Gryffindors were outside, making sure to enjoy the nice summer warmth as long as possible, but a few of us decided to just lounge in the commons. Well, I was sitting down at the corner of one of the couches, and Ginny sat down next to me in the center.

Well, after about a half hour, she started to get a bit sleepy. Instead of going up to her room, though, she twisted on the couch and leaned back against me. I wrapped my arms around her, and just sat there as she fell asleep in my embrace. She's so peaceful when she sleeps like that, so calm and innocent and pure. The two hours we spent like that were pure bliss, and I hated the moment when we had to part so we could find proper beds.

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(Continues next chapter)

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	7. T2 The Second Diary cont

**Chapter 7**

_T2 - The Second Diary (continued)_

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_Sept 6th_

_I hate this - I hate what I've somehow done. I would give anything to take back those words I said last year, the words that pushed her away from me. What was I even thinking? The whole world knows how much I care about Ron and Hermione, but they haven't exactly been hurt by Voldemort, have they?_

_I was so close today, so close to taking it back. It was a wonderfully warm day, so Ginny and I decided to go put on swimsuits and spend the afternoon at the Great Lake. I think I'm going to skip writing any details about what went through my head when I saw her in her new two-piece swimsuit, mostly because if Ron ever happened to find this, he'd probably kill me if I wrote them down._

_We'd playfully swam and waded in the water for about an hour before we collapsed down next to each other on the sand, looking out onto the lake. I turned to face her, and then I saw how close our faces were to each other. I could see it in her eyes, could see what she wanted - she wanted me to lean forward, to kiss her, to put my arms around her._

_I wanted that too, I wanted it so badly. But I bowed my head, looking down at the sand, and mumbled that I was sorry._

_I think... I think I don't want her to see me as weak. If I had kissed her, if I had followed my heart, she would always wonder if it was because I didn't have the strength to stay away from her for her own safety. I know now how stupid what I said a year ago was, but she might think I'm putting my love of her over her safety. As much as it hurts, especially thinking about that kiss that almost-was, I can't let her think that about me... which means I have absolutely no clue what I'm supposed to do now._

Ginny looked up from the diary, tears welling in her eyes, both of happiness and pain. She'd been hurt by that kiss that almost-was as well, a sense of rejection coursing through her when he looked away from her eyes guiltily. She doubted that she had ever felt worse than that single moment when his eyes dropped from hers. But more than that, she'd agreed with what he wrote - them not being together didn't make any sense to her, either.

She wiped her tears away, not able to contain the hope that was shining through her, and tucked the diary away in her dresser before going out to the commons.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry called to her, a smile on his face.

Ginny didn't waste any words; she walked up to him, curled one hand around his back and the other around behind his head. "Harry, I love you," she whispered, and softly brushed her lips against his, tenderly and gently kissing him.

She could feel him welcoming it for a few seconds, but when the kiss faded away, he whispered in a sad and guilty voice, "Ginny..."

"Sshhhh..." she whispered back. She smiled, and quietly kissed him once again. She felt that he didn't seem to know what to do, that he was in some sort of mental struggle. But she wasn't going to back away, now that she knew just what thoughts were plaguing him.

"It's ok, Harry," she whispered into his ear, cradling him. "Those words might have made sense last year, but they don't any more, do they? I want to be with you - I want to be near you."

She let out a noise of relieved happiness when he nodded, and they finally shared a slow mutual kiss that didn't seem to want to fade away. And Ginny knew that even if the kiss itself did, the memory of it would last forever.

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Teresa missed the eyeroll of her husband at the rather fluffy ending, mostly due to the content of George's writing. She was all at once blushing, amused, upset, and... well, excited at it.

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_If you're reading this, please review._

Two quick notes: I decided not to put replies to comments at the bottom of the chapters, because it looks unprofessional and detracts from reading (or rereading) the story. However, I do want to reply to them, and I never want anyone to feel that their comments are unappreciated – so I'm going to try to email out replies after posting a chapter.

Second note… next chapter is going to be a bit interesting. If any of you are 17+ years old or so, could you give me an email at I'd like your assistance with something.


	8. G2 The Night After

**Chapter 8**

_G2 - The Night After_

Teresa missed the eyeroll of her husband at the rather fluffy ending, mostly due to the content of George's writing. She was all at once blushing, amused, upset, and excited at it.

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**The Night After**

_By George Michaelson_

"You, Harry," Ginny said, entering the common, "were absolutely amazing out there during that battle." She pulled her school robe off over her head, tossing it to the side of the commons, leaving her in blue jeans and a small form-fitting tshirt.

Harry grinned at the words, and had to admit that he much preferred being around her when she was wearing this as opposed to the school robes. "I just got lucky," he replied.

"Oh, no," Ginny said with a smirk, sauntering up close to him. "No, Harry Potter, that was skill. You getting lucky is yet to come." At those words, she placed an authoritative hand upon the front of his robes, pushing him backwards towards the stairwell leading up to the boys' dormitories.

Harry had never seen this side of Ginny before, but he had to admit he loved it. Ginny's eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement, mischief, and quite a bit of lust as she herded him up along the spiraling staircase. Halfway along the climb she fiercely pushed him to the side, up against the curving stone wall, pressing herself up tightly against him and sandwiching him between the wall with one leg beginning to ensnare around his.

A shivering breath escaped Harry as she placed a series of intense kisses along his collarbone. He closed his eyes, trying to stop his throat from making a noise that was seeking to escape, a primal sound from what her kisses and wandering hands were evoking. He didn't know how, but the two of them somehow managed to make their way up the remainder of the stairs, and the next thing he was aware of, his hand was extended behind him, fumbling to open the door to the seventh year dormitories while furiously kissing Ginny's lips.

Once his fingers finally were able to get the door open - Ginny firmly pushed him through the frame, towards his bed on the other side of the room, not stopping until the back of his calves ran up against the bedframe and he toppled backward to sit atop the comforter. She smirked and walked back away from him towards the door.

A brief second of confusion flashed through Harry's eyes until he saw that she was merely locking the entryway. As she sauntered back towards him, Harry was mesmerized by the way her hips and hair moved with each step, and before he knew it, she had cozied up to him on top of his lap.

"So, Harry," she whispered coyly, one hand playing with the fastening of Harry's outer robe while the other went even further and rubbed along Harry's tshirt from the inside of it.

Harry let out a trembled breath, and shivered once again as Ginny...

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(That's not the end of George's story, just the end of it here...)


	9. Awkward to Angry

**Chapter 9**

_Awkward to Angry_

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George grinned as he watched his wife continued to read the story. Her cheeks were flushed quite a bit and she was biting her lower lip; if he wasn't mistaken, he heard her whisper at one point, "... have to try that..." which made his mouth light up into a highly amused smirk.

When Teresa finally finished the short story, she didn't know quite what to say. "I didn't know you could write that." She read the last few several paragraphs again, and said, "Wow... I can't believe you wrote this. I mean, did you used to read romance novels or something?"

"Nope," George replied back, grinning further.

"Still, I don't think this is what Henry was asking for."

George ignored her, and asked with a smug look, "So, are we going to discuss our stories?"

Teresa did a bit of a double take; _this_ certainly wasn't something they discussed every day, let alone in the living room while the sun was still up and shining through the window. "I guess," she replied, quite a bit out of sorts, mostly still in shock from George's story. Trying to take back control, she asked, "What did you think of my story?"

"It was good," George replied, clearly eager to get on to discussing what he wrote.

"That's it? It was good?" Teresa's ordinary self had returned, and apparently a bit of her ire as well.

George rolled his eyes. "Harry still didn't seem like himself. He wasn't really 'guyish', but it was a lot better than the last story - the Dead of Night."

"The _Dearth_ of Night," Teresa corrected. "He seemed pretty _guyish_ to me." She couldn't resist, and added, "I could make him more clueless - would that help?"

"Haha," George replied. "Ok, obviously we need a 'Men 101' lesson for you. Harry, or any guy for the most part, would _not_ sit for two hours doing nothing with Ginny sleeping against him. Or, if he did, he wouldn't view it as pure bliss."

"Oh, give me a break," Teresa replied harshly. "How many movies did we see when we were dating where we'd do that _exact_ same thing? And I'm pretty sure you enjoyed it, because whenever we started watching a movie you'd coax me into it! Or how about last Christmas during the party at the Brickmans? While the other three couples talked about the football season, I napped against you and you certainly looked happy to me."

"That's because there was something _happening_. A movie to watch, a conversation to follow - _something_. Don't get me wrong, but if you're expecting us sit or lie like that for more than five minutes, you either have to talk with us or have something else in the background for us to focus on. Two hours? Harry would've been bored silly, sitting absolutely still, with nothing to do, not able to even move."

"You don't enjoy holding me?" Teresa asked, a bit of vulnerability in her voice.

George sighed. "Of course I enjoy holding you. But it has to be more than just sitting there doing nothing."

Teresa looked a bit hurt by that, and quickly changed the subject. "Well, I don't think Ginny was very 'girlish' in your story, if we're talking about that. I mean, I don't think anything that... um, you wrote... well, would be for her."

"I don't know," George said, grinning, "It certainly seemed like she was happy to me, especially there towards the end..."

Teresa shot her husband a look. "He didn't even say anything to her through the whole thing."

"Talking is definitely overrated," George replied, shrugging. "I like to let the... the _actions_ talk for themselves."

Teresa narrowed her eyes. "Men 101 lesson? How about a Woman 101 lesson? No, this is a _heck_ of a lot simpler than 101. How about a Woman 01 lesson? Women _enjoy_ hearing their husband tell them what makes them special, how much they care for their wife - especially when being... close. And women _enjoy_ hearing their husband say 'I love you.'"

"Harry and Ginny aren't married," George pointed out, not quite connecting everything fast enough.

Teresa's stare withered George a bit, and she said in a caustic voice, "Well, let's hope they never do, so Harry won't have to say a word!" With that, she angrily stormed away out of the living room.

"I love you," George called after her, a slight bit of desperate apology in his voice.

Its reply was a bedroom door being slammed shut.

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	10. Dialogue Part 1

**Chapter 10**

_Dialogue (part 1)_

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Teresa opened the front door after getting home from work on Friday and saw her husband going over one last check of his bags. She was a bit surprised; he wasn't going to be picked up for another 50 minutes and he usually was rushing until the very end. Of course, then again, it's not like he could miss a flight for this trip, since he and his coworkers were driving instead of flying the 400 miles southeast to South Carolina.

"Did I forget anything?" George asked.

If Teresa had been in a foul mood, she probably would've replied that she would have absolutely no idea whether he had everything packed. However, she was in good spirits and merely asked, "Toothbrush, toothpaste, comb, deodorant, clothes, money?"

"... yep," George said, his eyes rolled back a bit glazedly looking at the ceiling, an odd habit he had when thinking.

"Well, then you've got everything important," she replied back, and plopped down on the couch.

"Oh!" George said, turning around to look at her. "What about the story writing? I'm not going to be checked into the hotel until late..."

"That's ok," Teresa said, smiling. "Henry actually called here yesterday to check up on us, and I mentioned that today we wouldn't be able to write our stories. He gave us a one-time exercise to do instead."

George was immediately a bit wary. "Oh?"

"It's called a dialogue exercise. Basically, we write a single small story together, swapping every other sentance or so. The focus is supposed to be on what the two characters say to each other - so I suppose I write what Ginny will say to Harry, and you do the opposite? We'd have enough time to do it now."

George pursed his lips, but eventually shrugged in a sure-why-not manner. He pulled a notepad and pencil from the kitchen table and sat down at the opposite edge of the couch, twisted a bit so he was facing her with his back propped diagonally against the corner. "What am I supposed to write?"

"I don't know," Teresa replied.

George shrugged again, and started jotting on the paper.

_Harry fumed, walking in through the portal to the Gryffindor commons. Honestly, if he knew that the defense professor would be as bad as Snape had been the year before, he wouldn't have bothered coming back this final year! Professor Lillith Montgomery was a slytherin to the core, and made absolute sure that no Gryffindor left her class without at least nine hours of homework. Adding to that, she seemed, once again like Snape, to have a personal dislike for him and had given him a detention for getting the wrong incantation on the spell they were working on. He let out an angry sigh, and collapsed on the couch, trying to put it all out of mind._

George handed Teresa the paper. "Is it ok? Sorry, it's a bit long..."

Teresa looked it over and smiled. "It's fine. Besides, it'd be hard for us both to set up the chapter with single sentences, wouldn't it?" She started writing beneath it.

_Ginny, as well, had a bad day. Like Harry, it was due to a professor; however, hers was because the transfiguration paper she'd submitted to McGonagall had earned her a P. She had to admit, while there were some parts she didn't quite understand, she'd worked hard and knew she deserved at least an Acceptable on it. "Hello," she said grumpily, sitting down at the other end of the couch._

"Ginny _again_?" George joked. "Why can't Harry be paired up with Fleur for once?"

"Oh?" Teresa said smiling, pointedly twirling a finger through her auburn hair. "Harry with a blonde?" She stopped, as if to think about it, "Well, I've always wondered what would happen if Ginny dated a nice fair-haired boy like Draco. He's probably in trimmer shape than Harry..." And to twist the knife a bit, she made an obvious look at George's stomach pudge.

"Ok, that's mean," George said, just the slightest bit of a grumpy tone in his voice. He turned back and reread what she wrote. "They're both mad?"

"Why not?"

George apparently didn't really have an objection, and continued the writing. This time, however, they wrote in much smaller bits and traded the paper back and forth every ten seconds or so.

_"Hello," Harry replied back. "Bad day?"_

_"Of course," Ginny pouted. "Remember that transfiguration essay I had to do?"_

_"The one about conjugation?" Harry asked._

_"No, that was two weeks ago. The one about large size differences."_

George rolled his eyes at reading that. Apparently Harry was never right, either.

_"Oh, _That_ one," Harry replied. "What happened?"_

It was Teresa's turn to roll her eyes. Was George making a big of a deal about having it be a _different_ essay? Shaking her head, she continued the writing and paper swapping.

_Ginny frowned. "She gave me a _**P**_ on it! I know, it could've been better, but it really didn't deserve a P!"_

_"Did you talk to her about it?" Harry asked, concerned._

_"Well, no," Ginny answered. "Not yet, at least."_

_"You should really talk to her. I mean, she's tough, but at least she's fair - maybe if you argue your case she'll bump it up."_

_"Harry, I can't get a _**P**_ - my mum will kill me!"_

_Harry took the bit of parchment and began reading through it. "Oh... well, you see, I think she was expecting you to write more about the weights and conservation of magical energy - definitely talk to her about it."_

Teresa read the paper, and then set it down. "Wait, wait... George, we need to talk."

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_If you're reading, please review._

Also, I have an interesting announcement. I've decided that I'm going to publish this story – print out ten copies of a final (revised and possibly more fleshed out version) of the story. I'm going to give it out to my friends as a Christmas present) So I **_Really_** want good critical reviews – what needs to be changed, what needs to be rebalanced, what needs to be brought out more, etc.


	11. Dialogue Part 2

**Chapter 11**

_Dialogue (part 2)_

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Teresa read the paper, and then set it down. "Wait, wait... George, we need to talk."

"What?"

"Well, Harry's replies..." she said, but didn't know quite how to phrase it.

George mistook what she was saying. "Harry's being realistic," he pointed out.

"Yes, I know, but..." She sighed. "Listen, George, when Ginny started talking about her problem, Harry shouldn't have done that."

"Done what?" George was clearly bewildered.

"Well, for starters, he read over her essay and told her what she did wrong."

George was even more confused. "Isn't that what he should have done? I mean, they were talking about the 'P' she got on her essay. He's trying to help her get the grade bumped."

"But she doesn't want that," Teresa said.

"She doesn't want her grade bumped?"

"No, of course she wants the grade bumped. She just doesn't want Harry to help her do it. She's not looking for him to solve her problem."

"Wait, what?" George looked flabbergasted. "Then why did she even bring up the subject if she doesn't want his help?"

"George," Teresa replied softly, "She was looking for Harry to be supportive of her."

"But that's what he was doing - he's trying to help her."

"No, I mean..." Teresa struggled with words for a second. "Ok, let me put this differently. When Ginny told Harry about her problem, she wasn't worried about what she'd end up doing. She can solve her own problems, or if she does need advice on what to do she'd ask him for it. What she _wanted_ was for him to make her feel better."

George's face slowly reflected understanding about what Teresa was saying. Finally, he pronounced, "That's stupid."

Teresa, despite herself, laughed. "Why is that stupid?"

"It just is. If I have a problem with... say... a pair of new shoes being too small, I don't talk to my neighbor so I can feel better about my small shoes. I do it because I want some help fixing the problem. I'd want them to say to me 'You should go back to the shoestore and get a different pair'. What would you want to hear?"

"I don't know," Teresa replied back. "How about, 'Ouch! Yeah, they look pretty small. My last pair was that way, so I know how you feel'."

"But... your shoes are still small."

"That's not the point."

"It's not helping solve the problem."

"It's not about solving the problem."

George didn't say anything, mostly because he wasn't quite sure what his wife was talking about. Teresa shook her head and began writing a response.

_Ginny nodded absently. "How about you?" she asked quietly. "You're not having a good day either, are you?"_

_"Ehn," Harry said, making a defeatist shrug. "Not really that big of a deal."_

_Ginny frowned, concerned. "What's not that big of a deal?"_

_"Nothing," came the reply in a slightly defensive voice._

_"Harry," Ginny said, putting her hand on top of his, "You can talk to me. What happened?"_

_"Not anything important," Harry replied back insistantly._

_"Harry," Ginny chided in a mildly disapproving voice. "Obviously something had you irritated."_

Teresa watched as George took the paper, but was surprised when he didn't start writing.

"Ok," George said slowly, "Ginny deserves to die."

"What?" Teresa asked. "Why?"

"Obviously he doesn't want to talk about it."

"But it's bothering him."

"So?"

"So he should talk about it - it'll make him feel better."

"But he doesn't want to."

"Why not?"

George looked at his wife, trying to decide how to explain this. "Did you know," he said, "That a woman at the restaurant I was eating lunch at yesterday called me fat?"

"What?" Teresa asked, feeling a pang of guilt from her teasing five minutes ago. "That's terrible - and you're _not_ fat."

"No, no, you missed the point. Do you think it bothered me?"

Teresa had to admit, her husband was a bit sensitive about his weight, and nodded.

"But I didn't tell you about it. When... when most guys come across a problem or something that upsets them, they want to handle it themselves. And generally we do, you just have to give us some time. Does it look like I'm still upset about what that woman said yesterday?"

"Not really. Still, you should've said something."

"That's not how it works," George admitted, shrugging.

"Then explain it to me," Teresa said. George searched her face, looking for any sense of sarcasm at his wife asking her husband to explain the mechanics of the male mind to her. Strangely, it seemed to be an honest request.

"Well," he said, not knowing how to start. "We don't like talking about that type of stuff - I'm sure you know that. And it's even worse if you come right out and ask, and it's pure agony if you keep asking even after we say no. Usually if you just give us a bit of time, we'll get over it on our own."

"So," Teresa said, trying to understand this, "Ginny knows Harry's feeling bad, but she shouldn't try to help him? Just make believe he's fine and hope he gets whatever is bothering him within a day?"

"No, not quite like that" George sighed. "Ok, they're done talking about her 'P' in transfiguration. Instead of saying 'Your day was horrible, you _will_ tell me right now what happened' she should lean up against him, put an arm around him, give him a kiss, and ask how his day went. If he doesn't go into it, Ginny should just let it pass. Talk about something else - quidditch, or the next DA meeting."

If anything, this brought a grin to Teresa's face. "So what you're saying is, Harry wants to be held. What a big baby."

George couldn't help but smile himself at it. "I thought you knew. All of us guys are just big babies at heart."

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_If you're reading this, please review._


	12. A SemiWelcome Email

**Chapter 12**

_A Semi-Welcome Email_

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Teresa was definitely enjoying the weekend; it wasn't often that she got to have a quiet Sunday all to herself. Taking advantage of it, she'd shut the windows, made a plate of crackers and cheese with a glass of iced lemonade, turned off all the lights throughout the house, and popped in a Hugh Grant movie. Teresa sprawled out on the couch, her head resting comfortably on the arm-rest, setting the dishes down on the floor at the base of the couch. And as soon as she'd got settled into just the perfect position...

_Ding_

Teresa groaned, her eyes closing in exasperation. She'd forgot to turn off the computer's instant messenger. After irritably hitting the pause button, she grudgingly stood back up and stalked back towards the den. Surprisingly, it actually wasn't an instant message from someone, but an email alert letting her know she had new mail; it was rather odd, because nobody emailed her - only her husband and a few people from work even knew the address.

After a few seconds of stretching in a sort of half-yawn, she let curiosity get the best of her and opened up her email.

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To: "Teresa" Teresa. "George" Home on the range

Received: Apr 24 16:29:47

Message ID: 8E0CA307. CounselOfWeasleys.txt

Hi Teresa

Things down here definitely aren't what I expected. I guess I just assumed that it would be the same thing as when we visited the company in Maine and they put us up in a modest hotel for the weekend. Instead, we're staying at what I'd call a western-ranch home. If I had to guess, it used to be a place that horses were bred and raised since Carolina isn't exactly a cattle area.

It doesn't seem that we came down here at a good time, though. About an hour or two into the drive, the sky started getting extremely nasty and by the time we arrived at the ranch it was pouring - and it hasn't let up the last two days. Already the weather stations here are talking about flood warnings for some of the areas around the town.

I have a decent amount of free time down here, so I spent a bit yesterday and some more today typing up the Harry-Ginny story, which unfortunately took on a life of its own. The computer down here doesn't have something that will give a word count, but it's probably at least 3000 words long. No promises I'll be able to read yours tonight, though - I'm only going to be up for a few more hours.

- Love, George

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_If you're reading, please review._

_I'm posting the next chapter at the same time as this one._


	13. G4 The Counsel of Weasleys

**Chapter 13**

_G4 - The Counsel of Weasleys_

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**The Counsel of Weasleys**

_By George Michaelson_

"Hey, mate. Ginny just told us - probably for the best."

"Hm?" Harry looked over at George, wondering what he was doing here at Hogwarts. Shouldn't he be at his store? "Ginny just told you what?"

"About the two of you calling it off, at least for now," George explained. "Good decision, I suppose."

Harry glumly nodded. "Yeah."

George patted him on the shoulder. "Still, keep your chin up, mate. You know that she still cares about you, and is probably going to be suitably impressed if you take all of this seriously."

"Wait," Harry said, a smile managing to emerge on his face, "_You're_ talking about taking things seriously? That seems a bit out of character for you."

Fred grinned in response. "True enough. Just so you know, Bill thinks you were being sneaky - that you said it because you either didn't want to see Ginny anymore or are just doing it as a stunt to impress her."

"That's crazy!"

"Told 'em the same thing myself, mate."

Harry huffed. "I _want_ to be with Ginny. It's just that her safety is so much more important - we can wait to be together."

"Don't need to convince me." George shrugged. "I know you'd never just... 'give in' and endanger my baby sister. Bill was just being a git."

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"It's my little ickle sister."

"Ugh, Fred, what are you doing here?"

"Well, that's quite a warm welcome for your brother you haven't seen in two months!"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Hello, Fred, my wonderful brother. What are you doing here?"

Fred sighed. "Sister, you wound me. Your distrust of me is almost as bad as Charlie's of Harry."

"What?" That was the last thing Ginny had been expecting. "Why doesn't Charlie trust Harry?"

"I tried to change his mind - he trusts Harry for most things... but doesn't trust him with his baby sister."

Ginny laughed. "Fred, _Harry_ broke it off - not because he wanted to, but because he wanted to make sure I was safe."

Fred scowled. "You're telling me. But Charlie insisted that when he was a young guy around Harry's age, he was fond of doing these incredibly romantic gestures just like it. Charlie flat out told me that Harry would be asking you back out before You-Know-Who was destroyed."

"That's crazy!"

"Told 'em the same thing myself, sis."

Ginny huffed. "Harry _wants_ to be with me. It's just that he wants to keep me safe more than he wants to be with me..."

Fred sensed the bit of reflection that last sentance brought.

"... doesn't he?" Ginny finished.

"I'd bet on it," Fred said authoritatively. A short pause later, he said, "However..."

"However?"

Fred paused, as if this was something he was considering. "Well, if you're not sure, you could sort of... test him."

Ginny looked scandalized. "Test him? Hasn't he gone through enough?"

"It's not a _bad_ thing," Fred said defensively. "I mean, if - no, _when_ Harry defeats You-Know-Who, the two of you could get back together and you'd always wonder. Or, on the other hand, you could sort of _tempt_ him a bit now and see if he bites. Now, obviously I think he wouldn't - and afterward you'd know you could trust him completely. Right?"

"I don't know." Ginny frowned. "That seems kind of dodgy."

Fred shrugged. "Up to you. I think I can trust Harry, myself - this was only Charlie bringing it up, so take it with a grain of salt."

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Later in the evening, Fred and George met up at their store.

"Did she buy it?"

"Absolutely," Fred answered, smirking. "Heaven help Harry. Honestly, she's quite a distrustful little girl."

"Wonder where she gets that from?"

"My guess is Percy - you never could depend on that git. Did Harry buy it?"

"In galleons, mate. Poor boy puffed up like a rooster at the thought being accused of compromising our little sister's honor."

"Speaking of galleons, do you want to wager a bit on this?"

"10 on Harry," George replied at once. "Nobody can get through Harry's thick head."

"10 on Ginny," Fred agreed quickly. "You really don't know how stubborn your little sister is, do you?"

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_If you're reading, please review._


	14. CoW Cont

**Chapter 14**

_The Counsel Of Weasleys (cont)_

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Harry hopped out of the shower, singing to himself as he slipped on his forest green boxers. He got a bit of ribbing from Ron about having underwear that was Slytherin colored, but there was no way he would wear red or yellow colored undies. After slipping them on, he flexed his muscles a few times in front of the mirror, the last of which he sported a comically fierce growl.

"Impressive, mate," Ron said, trying not to laugh as he walked into the bathroom from the seventh year dormitory.

"Hey," Harry shouted. "How did you get in?"

"Lock the door next time, Zeus."

Harry rolled his eyes and finished dressing.

"Honestly," Ron continued, "You should count yourself lucky I don't tell Fred and George about this. You know how much they'd give to know that 'The Boy Who Lived' has green boxers, sings in the shower, and primps in front of the mirror after he gets out? Or maybe I should tell Ginny - I'm sure she'd appreciate it..."

That triggered the memory of what George had told him the day before. "No," he said with a touch of heat. "Leave Ginny out of this - we're not together anymore, remember?"

"Whoa, calm down!" Ron shook his head. "Honestly, Harry, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" Ron began brushing his teeth, yet even that didn't stop him from managing to continue talking. "Anyway, see you down at breakfast? I hear they've got peach marmalade and toast."

"Ugh," Harry grunted. "No, I'm not really hungry right now."

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Ginny stood in her room, towel clutched around her just-showered body, staring at her wardrobe and trying to decide if she was going to go through with this. It didn't help that she was a Weasley, and hardly had a large variety of clothes to begin with... but the blue robe just might do.

"What do you think about this?" Ginny asked her housemates, holding up the robes.

"Nice." Wanda grinned. "Who are you trying to impress?"

Ginny shrugged. "Nobody."

"Well, I'm doubtful that nobody will be impressed."

As she dressed, Ginny did a double take, not sure whether Wanda was giving her a hard time or being clever. "See you down at breakfast," Ginny called after her, making her way to the Great Hall.

"Oy, Ginny," Ron called over to her, mouth half full of food.

"Hi, Ron." Ginny sat down next to her brother and grabbed a few pieces of bacon to put on her plate. "I need your help with something."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. There's this girl I know who has a crush on a guy. The guy though, er, he's dating someone else. So anyway, my friend wants to sort of... sway him to start going out with her. What should she do?"

"Is she good looking?" Ron asked, before shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth.

"Er, well, decently good looking," Ginny replied.

"Well, tell her to use that. I mean, have her wear something like you're wearing, only not so horribly modest."

Ginny's mouth fell a half-inch. This robe was modest? Granted, it was nothing like the outfits some of the floozy-like girls of the school, but it left uncovered half of her shoulders and most of her collarbone! And the sleeves only went down to her elbow, flaunting the beguiling shape of her wrists! She asked with trepidation, "What do you have in mind?"

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_If you're reading this, please review._

I've posted the next chapter at the same time.


	15. Cow Cont 2

**Chapter 15**

_The Counsel Of Weasleys (cont)_

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"Ron," Harry said, shutting the door to his dormitory the next day. "Something is seriously wrong with your sister."

Ron's face quickly changed. "What happened? Is she ok!"

"Yes, she's ok, but..." Harry stopped, not knowing how to phrase this. "Ok, I'm sitting in the quidditch stands, watching some of the younger students play a pick-up game of Quidditch - I think most of them were Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws. Anyway, I feel these hands on my shoulders massaging..."

"Oh?" Ron's ears perked up, obviously interested at this turn of the story.

"I try to turn around, but I hear this whisper, 'Just keep watching the game, Harry.' It took me a few seconds to place it, but I was positive it was Ginny!"

Ron coughed loudly, as if he'd swallowed a bit of water down the wrong pipe. "What!"

"That's not all," Harry exclaimed. "Your sister curled her legs around my waist from behind, pressing herself up against my back. And, she asked... she asked, 'Does this feel good, Harry?'. I mean, what was I supposed to say!"

"No! You were supposed to say No!"

"But it did feel good! And she was wearing this really good-lo..."

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, given the contortions in Ron's face. After a few seconds, the red haired Weasley said in a forcibly neutral voice, "You said you weren't going to see my sister for her own safety."

Harry sighed. "I know, Ron, I know. So why is she making this so hard on me?"

Ron shrugged cluelessly. "What can I say? Women are weird sometimes."

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Ginny sat on her bed, having to admit she was pretty much pouting. Yes, Harry had done exactly what he was supposed to do, and for some reason, that was almost as bad as if he _hadn't_ done what he was supposed to do. Or maybe it was even worse - she didn't know for sure, and was trying to figure it all out in her head.

Not coming up with anything, she harrumphed to herself and plodded down the stairs, across the commons, and up the stairs to the guys dormitories. Slipping inside the seventh years' rooms, she grinned when she saw Ron dozing away in a mid-afternoon nap. She ran over and jumped atop the covers.

"Oy!" Ron called out sleepily. "Geroff!"

Ginny ignored him, and purposely moved so that she was sitting on Ron's gut through the blanket. "Get up, you lazy sod. Your advice was no good."

"Ehn... what?" Ron murmurred.

"Your advice to me... for my friend. It was no good - they're still not together."

Ron clearly was still only half awake. "Mmmm... try harder."

"How?" Ginny's voice had a bit of a whine in it.

And given Ron's sleepy state, it clearly worked. "Ehgn, just read Parvati's diary," he murmured. "Lemme go sleep."

Ginny rolled her eyes before hopping up off the bed, this time to sneak into the seventh year girls' dorm. However, once she'd flipped through Patil's diary, she could clearly see what Ron meant. Several whole sections, it seemed, detailed her rather enthusiastic efforts to get various guys to like her. Amusingly, Ron actually had two weeks worth of entries back three years ago, which made Ginny wonder how clueless Parvati had to be if she thought it would've taken any more effort than saying, "Ron, let's go out this weekend," at the right time. Still, while the sections involving Ron were rather tame, there were some more... aggressive efforts later on. Trying to decide which of them to try out (and which of them she'd actually have the nerve to do,) she set the diary back on the shelf. As she left the room, it suddenly occurred to that since Ron had apparently known exactly what was in Parvati's diary, maybe she should make an effort to hide hers from now on...

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	16. CoW Cont 3

**Chapter 16**

_G4 - The Counsel of Weasleys (cont.)_

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Harry wandered down to lunch, not really eager to get there. While it was true they were having leftover Polish Meat-Balls for lunch - not one of Harry's favorite foods to begin with - the main reason he was a bit wary of such a public place was that Ginny was bound to be there. He didn't know whether the last three days were the best or the worst of his life, but he knew that he didn't want to be forced to take yet another ice-cold shower. This was especially true since Ginny's tempting had forced him to take one 40 minutes ago and even Ron was beginning to notice something odd.

"Hiya, Harry," Ron said through a mouth stuffed with food.

"Hi, Ron," Harry replied back in a relieved voice, sitting next to him - his sister wasn't anywhere at the table. However, within ten seconds - timing that Harry _knew_ couldn't be accidental - Ginny arrived and sat down as well, sandwiching Harry between the two Weasleys.

Ginny said in a sweet voice, "Hi, Harry."

"Hi Ginny," Harry replied, bottling his wariness.

Ginny smiled, and forced herself to turn a bit to face Wanda, sitting to the other side of her and across the table. She talked with her peer for a few minutes, absently following Harry and Ron's conversation as well. And when Ron got to talking about practicing quidditch in the summer, she summoned her nerves.

She'd never done anything like this before, and would be quite surprised if she didn't spontaneously combust within the next few minutes. Her hand slowly crept under the table...

Harry laughed as Ron talked about the moves he tried to invent during the summer, featuring a rather comical half-feint that was supposed to flat-out confuse the chaser attempting to score.

"... but the really good thing is that from the half-feint, you can transition into a sloth grip roll" Ron was saying. "Do you think that the move will get named after me since I inv..."

"Agh!" Harry cried. His head immediately swiveled over to Ginny; understandable considering her hand was now slowly rubbing along the middle of his thigh. But aside from a rather pronounced blush on her cheeks, there was no sign that she wasn't fully engrossed in her conversation with her classmate across the table.

"What is it, mate?" Ron asked, concerned.

"Er, nothing."

Ginny knew she probably couldn't possibly be blushing redder as she tried to continue the casual conversation with Wanda. "So what did your neighbors name the puppies?"

"Er, Ginny," Wanda replied, "Are you feeling ok? You look... well, you look pretty flushed."

"Oh, no," Ginny tried to say in a light-hearted voice which came out a bit squeaky. "I'm fine - absolutely fine. Perfectly alright." It didn't help that she had the definite impression that Harry was staring right at her with a shocked look on his face.

Harry certainly wanted to stare at Ginny with a shocked look on his face, but that would certainly make Ron wonder what was going on. And try as he might, he couldn't see his best friend responding well to him saying, 'Oh, that's nothing - your little sister is just massaging my thigh right now and it took me by surprise.'

Unlike Wanda, Ron didn't notice the odd expression on his friend's face; this was rather surprising since Harry's facial expression included at least two dozen different emotions battling for the forefront.

"Well," Harry said, after managing to swallow a mouthful of ground beef without choking, "I remember a few years ago when I was flying and... er... and... uh... w-well... what was I s-saying?"

Ginny blushed a bit redder still, knowing just why Harry was stammering; her hand was slowly inching up his leg. The strangest and most disturbing part about this was, she was feeling a faint but undeniable thrill of satisfaction. She had no idea why, and frankly she didn't want to know. She felt dirty enough just doing this; she didn't want to think about what it meant that she was deriving a bit of enjoyment out of it.

Within a minute or two more of the tortured lunch, Harry's other leg began trembling slightly and every other word out of his mouth was either stammered or mangled. By now, even Ron was beginning to catch on that something odd was going on with his best friend.

"Harry? You a'right mate?"

Finally, a breaking point was hit. Ginny's hand reached hip-level, perilously close to scandalizing both of them, when Harry couldn't stand a second more.

"Aghh!... I think I'm done," he said in a voice pitched a bit higher than normal, jerking away from the table abruptly. "Good study - gotta lunch now. I mean, well, I... yes, gotta go." With that, Harry quickly fled the hall knowing that he was due for yet another ice-cold shower. And the only person possibly more flustered than him was the auburn haired girl he was fleeing.

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Sorry about the burst posting (Chapter 16-19) – Thanksgiving and moving make it hard to post regularly. Anyway, please review, and if you have the time, do it more than just once for four chapters. Thanks!


	17. CoW Cont 4

**Chapter 17**

_G4 - The Counsel of Weasleys (cont.)_

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"Well, looks like the castle's still standing."

Arthur gave his wife a bemused look. Depending on when you saw her, Molly was the person with either the most trust or the least faith in Fred and George. Now apparently was the latter; for the last week, the letters from their two youngest children were seeming quite a bit off and making the parents fret a bit about them. And, after finding out that Fred and George had paid Hogwarts a visit just beforehand, Molly had immediately insisted they take a visit up to the castle to "fix whatever they did this time."

"You want to check the commons?" Molly suggested. "I'll go check the quidditch pitch - Ron will probably be out there if he's not in the commons."

Arthur agreed, and made his way up the main staircase towards the Gryffindor tower. As soon as he stepped through the Fat Lady's portrait, he saw his daughter all by herself in the commons, sitting on the couch fuming.

"Hello, Ginny," he said gently.

"Dad!" she said, confused. "What are you doing here?"

Arthur didn't answer her, and sat down on the couch next to her. "Are you alright?"

"Yes," Ginny said. "Just... just had a bad day in Transfiguration."

Arthur smiled, seeing right through it. He put a fatherly arm around her, even though he fully expected her to angrily shoo him away and explain that she was _not_ a six-year old girl anymore. Instead, he was surprised by Ginny turning into him, scooting onto his lap and burying her face into his chest. Arthur gently hugged her, letting his daughter nestle against him and cry onto his robes like they had turned back time a decade.

It had been a long time and Arthur realized how much he missed this. Whether it was because she was the youngest child or had all brothers, Ginny seemed to have grown up faster than any of the boys. Even though he was here to comfort his daughter, he gladly took the moment to once again have his baby girl back in his arms, sheltering her.

Finally, he softly asked, "What happened, dear?"

Ginny didn't say anything for several seconds, until finally she sobbed, "Harry."

Arthur smiled a bit knowingly, glad that his daughter couldn't see his face and misunderstand. "What about Harry?" he gently prodded.

"I... last year he told me we shouldn't see each other... that I wouldn't be safe."

Arthur already knew this much. "And?"

"He... I... I wanted to know if he meant it, so... so... so I... t-tempted him."

This certainly surprised Arthur. The moments before she said those words had held a timeless innocence; it was quite a shock to have that jarred by the earthliness of her words.

"What happened?"

"He... he didn't... didn't g-give in."

"Did you want him to?"

Ginny was visibly shocked by the question. "Of course I didn't!" she said into his robes with a bit of heat. "If he had... r-responded, I would've known he doesn't really care about me!"

"Ginny," Arthur gently chided. "You've known Harry for seven years, and you know that he cares about you. If he had... if he had 'responded', that wouldn't have changed anything - he still would've cared about you. And... he still would've loved you."

Ginny began sobbing anew, and Arthur made soft hushing noises. "I... I ruined it," Ginny despaired. "Why would he want to be with me now, after what I did?"

Arthur managed to resist asking exactly what she had done, partly because he was pretty sure he didn't want to know. "You haven't ruined anything, Ginny. You haven't ruined anything at all. Just be the best friend you can be for him... and just be patient."

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Sorry about the burst posting (Chapter 16-19) – Thanksgiving and moving make it hard to post regularly. Anyway, please review, and if you have the time, do it more than just once for four chapters. Thanks!


	18. CoW Cont 5

**Chapter 18**

_G4 - The Counsel of Weasleys (cont.)_

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As Molly walked up the cobblestone walkway leading up the hill towards the pitch, she had to admit that she wasn't too worried about Ron. Granted, his letters were a bit disturbing; according to them Harry had gone insane, Ginny was obsessed with her classmate's dating habits, and Hermione... well, Molly didn't know what to think about the parts of the letters that talked about her. Every time he wrote her name, he seemed to lose a bit of focus on whatever he was writing about.

For instance, the last time he mentioned her even offhandedly, he had been ranting about how unfair the NEWT standards were. Once her name came out, though, the paragraph derailed into a discussion of their date from the night before. Even more amusingly, her son couldn't seem to remember what the original topic was, and ended the paragraph with some of his thoughts about Quidditch. So, when Molly arrived at the hilltop where the pitch was and found Harry instead, she had no problem abandoning the thought of continuing to search out Ron.

"Hello, Harry," Molly said in a sweet voice, and sat down on the pitch next to him.

"Hi, Mrs. Weasley," Harry replied.

"You can call me Molly, Harry," she said, but was a bit worried at the tone in his voice. Ordinarily, when he talked to her, it was with a warm and open voice; now, though, it was completely neutral and deadened. "Are you ok?"

Harry opened his mouth to explain, but thought better of it. After all, what parent wouldn't want to hear 'Yes, your daughter is freaking me out by massaging my thighs, throwing herself on me, and asking if it feels good.'? "I'm alright," he answered.

Molly smiled, seeing through it effortlessly. "What's going on?"

She watched as he composed his thoughts, letting him take his time. "It's about Ginny," he finally replied.

"What happened?"

"Do you know about... what we decided last year?"

"Of course," Molly replied kindly. "But it wasn't 'we' - it was you that decided that you two shouldn't be together so she'd be safe."

Harry apparently missed what Molly was saying, and continued, "Well, I don't think she agrees with me anymore. She's been trying to... er, trying to get me to change my mind."

Molly was extremely tempted to ask just _how_ Ginny was trying to change the boy's mind. Instead, she asked, "Why is she doing that?"

"I don't know," Harry replied. A few seconds of silence passed before Harry finally vented. "I don't get it, Molly! I can't go out with her because it'd be too dangerous - Voldemort might decide to go after her. I know this, and she knows it too! It's bad enough that I can't spend time with her, but it's a hundred times worse with her taunting me! I hated saying 'no' once, but having to say it each day is torture!"

Molly watched as Harry looked back at the ground grumpily and played with a few blades of grass. After a bit of silence, Molly asked, "Do you remember Ginny's first year?"

She could see his slight confusion at the apparent subject change. "Yeah - that was when she was given Riddle's Diary."

"And do you remember," Molly continued softly, "What happened to her father two years ago?"

Molly didn't let the silence stretch very long - she knew that Harry remembered the snake's bite wound Arthur suffered. "Ginny knows what You-Know-Who is capable of."

"That's my point!" Harry said indignantly. "She should know better!"

Molly smiled sadly. "Harry, what I mean is, maybe she decided to be with you anyway?"

"What?"

Molly sighed, leaning back a bit. "Arthur did the same thing to me."

"What?" Harry asked, clearly more confused. "Voldemort was after Arthur, and he wanted to keep you safe?"

Molly laughed. "No, Harry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was after me, in a loose sense. The Weasley family wasn't an enemy, at least not a big one. The Prewetts, though... well, you know what happened to them." She waited, but it didn't look like Harry was going to say anything. "I was worried for Arthur. Being with me, Miss Molly Prewett, and marrying me - one of the few of my family left on You-Know-Who's list - it wasn't the safest decision in the world. But one day, he set me down and flat out told me to stop it. He wasn't stupid, he knew it was dangerous. But it was what he wanted anyway."

"So... so Ginny..." Harry said, trying to figure it all out. "So Ginny is making the same decision?"

"I don't know," Molly replied honestly. "I think that's something the two of you will have to figure out on your own."

"But... but she'll think I was just... just 'giving in'." Harry didn't even recall that those words weren't his own, but placed there by George.

Molly smiled. "Giving in? Harry, how often do I 'give in'? Let alone to Arthur? Is that what you think I did?"

Molly could see the cogs turning in Harry's head, and smiled at him. "You're a good kid, Harry," Molly said, patting him affectionately on the shoulder. She watched as he puffed up a bit at being called 'kid', which if anything, reminded her of her own sons. She gave him one last look before heading back to the castle.

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Sorry about the burst posting (Chapter 16-19) – Thanksgiving and moving make it hard to post regularly. Anyway, please review, and if you have the time, do it more than just once for four chapters. Thanks!


	19. CoW Cont 6

**Chapter 19**

_G4 - The Counsel of Weasleys (cont.)_

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"Renaissance!"

"Impressionism!"

"Renaissance!"

"Impressionism!"

"Would you two shut up!" Vivien said, shaking her head.

"No!" Montgomery DuChase replied. "I won't desist until this brigand admits the Impressionism Era of painting was the pinnacle of artistic expression upon the canvas!"

Vivien rolled her eyes. "And the fact that you yourself are an impressionist portrait has nothing to do with that, I'm sure."

Merle Von Kael replied, "I don't understand the poppinfresh, myself. He just looks blurry to me."

"Why you..." Montgomery started, but Vivien urgently hushed them both.

"Someone's coming," she whispered. The three portraits became silent, and watched as a young man came in through the main entrance as a woman of the same age descended from the main staircase.

"This looks promising... think they're lovers?"

"You lecherous goat! I like your style!"

"Hey now, if Vivien wouldn't keep saying no to my charming advances, I wouldn't hav..."

"Sshhh!" Vivien hushed, unsure why fate had hung her between these two wastes of paint.

The trio watched as the couple walked up to one another.

"Ginny," Harry said softly.

"Harry," Ginny replied. She tenderly took hold of one of his hands, and stood on the tips of her toes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek. Even though it held a measure of caring and love, it was clear that it also held a newfound patience. She backed away a step and tried to let go of his hand; Harry, however, held fast.

"Harry?" Ginny asked, unsure of what he was doing.

Harry didn't answer, and instead moved back in the step she took away. He tilted his head a bit before leaning forward, his lips gently brushing along hers before quietly kissing. He squeezed her hand, and whispered, "Ginny..."

It was clear he was about to try to explain, to tell her what he was feeling. Now, though, Ginny didn't need it - she knew exactly what he meant. "Harry." She placed a finger upon his lips, stopping him from speaking. Smiling, she ensnared her arms around him, holding him closer. She stood upon her toes again, to share the third kiss.

"Yes, yes," Montgomery whispered. "We know your names - say something else."

"Get to the good stuff! Talk dirty!" Merle added softly.

"Sssh!" Vivien hissed, but fortunately the couple didn't seem to have heard the two vicarious paintings.

Harry and Ginny slowly parted from the kiss, mostly from a sense of timelessness. Even then, the separation was just enough so that Ginny could place her head in the hollow of Harry's upper chest, hugging each other closely.

"Mmmmm... Harry," Ginny murmured peacefully.

"Ginny," Harry murmured back.

Vivien managed to stave off Montgomery and Merle's comments with two heated glares.

"You know," Ginny said, "I have to get started on my transfiguration homework - I have two chapters to write a summary about before class tomorrow, but... I definitely wouldn't mind if there was a seventh year to help me out..."

"So, then," Harry asked with a mischievous grin, "Would you rather study in your bedroom or mine?"

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At the last line, which Teresa knew beyond a doubt George put in there on purpose just for her (either to needle her or to amuse her, she wasn't sure which,) she couldn't help but smile as her eyes rolled.

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Sorry about the burst posting (Chapter 16-19) – Thanksgiving and moving make it hard to post regularly. Anyway, please review, and if you have the time, do it more than just once for four chapters. Thanks!


	20. A Compromise

**Chapter 20**

_A Compromise_

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At the last line, which Teresa knew beyond a doubt George put in there on purpose just for her (either to needle her or to amuse her, she wasn't sure which,) she couldn't help but smile as her eyes rolled.

After her amusement at the last line - and obligatory wonderings of the sanity of her husband - Teresa printed off the short story, hijacking it onto the living room where the Hugh Grant movie sat waiting patiently paused. Plopping once more onto the couch, Teresa reread the story.

It took her awhile, but she finally pinpointed what was so odd about it - that it was a romantic comedy. While this might not have seemed extraordinary to some people, she was a bit amazed that her husband wrote it. This, from the man whose first two stories were an über-action piece and a Harlequin excerpt.

"Why did he write this?" Teresa asked herself, staring at the printout almost warily. As odd as it sounded, it was almost like her husband was making a compromise of sorts. While the first two stories he wrote were _interesting_, they were hardly her cup of tea (though just the memory of reading that second brought a bit of a smile to her face.) On the other hand, there was no way George would ever write anything like her 'Dearth of Night' or probably anything like 'The Second Diary'. They were too heavy, too pondering, and too emotional. This story seemed like it was almost too light, if that were possible.

"George... wrote fluff..." she said to herself, not quite able to believe it. "Henry, you sick man, you turned my husband into a fluff writer."

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


	21. Procrastinated

**Chapter 21**

_Procrastinated_

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Teresa groaned, setting her purse and day-planner down on the kitchen table. Work had been absolutely horrible - not the sort where everything went wrong, fortunately, but the type where each minute crawled by and each hour just did not want to end. It certainly didn't help that she'd procrastinated on writing her half of the story and would have to write it before she did anything else. She had a good excuse - George didn't stay up late enough to read hers yesterday anyway, and would be working relatively late. So if she wrote fast, she might be able to get the email out before he even got a chance to read it anyway.

She flipped on the television and plopped down on the couch, notebook and pen in hand, turning on the television.

"... and the farmers in the southeast are happy at record setting rainfalls within the last 72 hours, breaking a what was nearly a two month drought. However, the precipitation has caused a number of small floods in the area, so if you're planning on traveling in…"

Truth be told, Teresa was actually somewhat wishing George had wrote something more to his usual self, because she had an idea she was looking forward to getting out. It was a sad story – quite exquisite in her opinion – with Harry and Ginny taking the form of two ships that passed in the fog of night.

She even had the ending worked out in her head, but unfortunately she couldn't use it anymore. Teresa could see it now – she and George would walk back into Henry's office, and her husband would make a definite point that _he_ had went out of his comfort zone to make a light romantic comedy while _she'd_ been unable to change at all. She was definitely not anxious to give her husband that kind of moral authority!

For a brief fleeting few seconds she considered writing a steamy romance story similar to what George had several nights ago. Just the thought of it made her smirk; she rather enjoyed the idea of getting her husband hot and bothered in some hotel hundreds of miles away.

However, it quickly faded from mind when she remembered the little rule 'Never type something in an email you wouldn't want your mother to read.' Or worse, if one of her coworkers somehow managed to get hold of it…

Shuddering at the thought, she turned on the computer and began typing.

George,

I liked your story! I know we're supposed to focus on the romance between Harry and Ginny, but my favorite part was when Ginny and Arthur talked towards the end. You remember Christine, right? From church? Well, when she and I were fifteen, her mother died. And I remember the day I found out, I had the same sort of moment with my dad after school, crying on his shoulder for probably an hour.

I also liked its tone – it was a lot sweeter than your first two... you did it on purpose, didn't you? I mean, you wouldn't ordinarily write that sort of story on your own accord. It meant a lot, George...

Teresa's hands came from the keyboard, trying to decide what to write, both for the rest of the email, as well as what kind of story she should type out.

"Only fair, I suppose," she said to herself, deciding that she might as well try to do the same sort of thing – a light comedy. She was sure it wouldn't be quite the same – she was too much of a sucker for guys saying cheesy romantic lines to make it _too_ realistic. Finally deciding, she resumed typing.

I hope you enjoy my story too – take care of yourself, and I'll see you in a few days.

I love you.

- Teresa

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


	22. T4 A House Joined

**Chapter 22**

_T4 – A House Joined_

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**A House Joined**

_By Teresa Michaelson_

Ginny looked at Harry, a smile on her face. They had made a sort of pact after they had graduated - one that kept going even after they got engaged. The pact was simple - they each got a weekend once a month to decide what they would do together - and it was 'her' weekend to choose the activity. Privately, she felt she had got a far better end of the deal - Harry usually chose for the two of them to attend a quidditch match and have dinner together, both of which she enjoyed anyway.

"Oh, no," Harry said, shaking his head at the look on her face. "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

"Of course you are," Ginny replied smiling. "And it's not even going to cost us any money."

"Oh?" Harry was definitely viewing that as a positive development. Neither his job as an apprentice auror or her work as a trainee at the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts department paid particularly well.

"Absolutely," Ginny said, smiling. "You know how Seamus got that job with Winthrop's Wizard Housing? Well, they had a few trial enchantments left over that he gave me."

"Huh?"

Ginny suddenly realized that Harry probably didn't have the faintest clue what he was talking about, and possibly didn't even know how wizarding houses were built.

"Do you know how house building enchantments work?"

Harry shook his head no.

Ginny sighed, sitting on the couch. "Ok, wizards build their houses a lot different than muggles - well, at least most do. There are three major styles: Added, Joined, and Formed."

Harry raised an eyebrow and sat down beside his fiancée. "Alright, Added, Joined, and Formed. What do they mean?"

"Well, Added is the simplest. Basically, you magically construct a room, use the enchantments from Winthrop's, and add it to the house. You basically make your house one room at a time."

Harry didn't say anything, but he had the sudden suspicion that The Burrow was a very cheap 'Added' house that didn't quite get the rooms where they were supposed to go.

Ginny blushed, thinking the exact same thing as Harry, and continued on. "The last one - Formed - is an extremely expensive sort that only rich wizards can afford. What they do is, they create a large front door. Once a wizard - or wizards - step through that front door, a house is magically created around it that perfectly fits and suits them. It's literally a paradise inside - everything you could want and hope for."

Harry obviously didn't know quite what to say; Ginny smiled and continued on.

"The second one, though, is what most wizarding families use. Basically, two portals are created, and we each step through one. I don't know how exactly - Seamus said that someone through the portal would help us out when we got there - but we basically design a house individually and come back through the portal. Then the enchantment basically combines them into one house."

"It just... merges them?" Harry asked, more than a bit confused.

"Sort of," Ginny said. "It takes elements from each of ours and meshes it into a single house. It can turn out really bad, but usually the house is well suited for a couple living together."

"So you have some of these 'enchantments'?"

"In a way. They're just trial enchantments - the house vanishes within a day, and you can use finite to make it go away. We'd need to buy one of the final enchantments to make the house be created for good."

"Alright," Harry said, not sure he understood everything yet, but at least enough to feel his way through. "So... what do we do first?"

Ginny pulled out a small box from her robe pocket and opened the top of the box. Inside were nine rings - three were bright spring green and six were a deep dark blue. She carefully picked up two of the blue rings and placed them on the floor of their apartment so that their edges were touching.

Nothing happened.

"Er, did we miss the portals?" Harry asked, not quite brave enough to point out the fact that Ginny didn't appear to know what she was doing.

Ginny frowned. "I thought all I had to do... oh! I forgot the incantation! _Portus_!"

Two sparkling golden arcs of light appeared, enlarging on top of the rings, until both had a door-sized gateway of blackness outlined by a banner of golden light.

Harry looked over at her, and Ginny could tell exactly what the look was: He wanted to make sure that she knew what she was doing. She smiled at him and stepped through the first portal.

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


	23. AHJ Cont

**Chapter 23**

_T4 – A House Joined (cont.)_

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Nearly an hour later, both emerged from their portals, which promptly shrunk back down to nothingness. "So?" Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. "I think mine's ok. There were some parts I couldn't figure out, but it's pretty good for the most part."

"Oh? Such as?"

"I couldn't get the hallways to look ok. Everything just looked... well, didn't look right."

Ginny shrugged. "Don't worry about it. I couldn't get the outside to look right myself."

Harry groaned. "I forgot all about the outside! I just turned it maroon because I got tired of looking at all the white-grey surfaces everywhere waiting to be magically painted."

Ginny laughed. "It's fine. Here, let's take a look..." She pulled a green ring from the box, and carefully placed it on top of the dark blue rings lying side by side on the ground, so that it formed a pyramid. "_Portus_," she said once more. This time, a bloodred arc of light appeared above all three rings, creating another portal into what looked like black nothingness.

"You ready?" Ginny asked, taking hold of Harry's hand.

"Of course," Harry replied, and both stepped through the passage at the same time.

The first thing out of Harry's mouth was understandable.

"Now that is one _ugly_ house."

Ginny laughed. "Agreed. But I suppose when you mix sky blue with maroon."

"Hopefully the inside will be better."

They both walked in through the front door.

"Ok, Harry James Potter, if I had seen this _before_ you proposed to me, my answer might have been different."

It was debatable which thing was the worst element in sight. Perhaps it was the hideous tan leather couch and loveseat with embroidered pastel flower patterns. Maybe it was the nauseating wallpaper with red snitches flying over vivid lavender. Or it could easily be the simple fact that they barely had enough room to walk a straight path through the living room and kitchen - clutter of every sort seemed to litter the room.

"Hey, half of this is your fault," Harry said, smiling.

"Merlin's beard... What is _that_?" Ginny asked, pointing at a particularly egregious offender of space.

"A big screen T.V."

"Er, what?"

"Muggle thing."

Ginny looked with a raised eyebrow at the foreign device. "It's enormous! What does it do? Protect the house from any curse known to wizard-kind?"

"Er, well..." Harry walked over and pressed the power button. A movie started playing, the screen displaying a picture of the 1930's while the music of a swing band pumped from the nearby speakers. Harry looked back at Ginny, who bore a remarkably less than impressed expression.

"That's it?"

"You don't like it?"

Ginny put her hands on her hips. "Harry, my brothers can make a full illusion charm that occupy all the senses, and put it in a _small candy_. And heaven help us if my father saw that monstrosity - we'd never be safe in our own house again!"

Harry had to admit she was right. The last thing they needed was a five foot tall television and two four foot tall speakers running rampant through the house. "Ok, ok, no tv. But you can't blame me for the flowers on the couch!"

"Yes I can," Ginny said huffily. "A leather couch? This isn't some swinger's pad, Harry. We're looking for a _home_, someplace down-to-earth. A nice floral-patterned cloth-covered couch is the way to go."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Why don't you sit on it?"

"Oh yes, because when I sit on it, I'm going to say th... hey... this isn't bad."

Harry couldn't help but smile a bit as Ginny's riposte was deflected a bit. He wisely didn't say anything, though, and stood silently as he watched her scootch comfortably against the leather.

Ginny looked up at him, and almost poutingly said, "Fine, a leather couch will be ok."

"What happened to the walls, though?"

Ginny pointed a finger at him. "That is your fault, too, by the way."

"What?" Harry protested. "I thought mine looked good. It was a golden snitch pattern on dark red walls."

Ginny couldn't help but gag.

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


	24. AHJ Cont 2

**Chapter 24**

_T4 – A House Joined (cont.)_

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Ginny looked behind her one last time before she exited through the portal, looking at the second house she constructed, trying not to think about how empty it was. Harry and she had agreed that they would only put the essentials in and maybe one or two things they'd like to have - so as to avoid the clutter of the first attempt. And while she knew that when the two houses were combined it'd seem a lot fuller, she had the sense of walking through an almost barren house inside.

"Ready?" Harry asked, taking hold of her hand and giving it a squeeze.

"Sure." They made their way through the second bloodred portal.

"Ahhh, that looks a _lot_ better."

"Agreed."

The house was a very light blue shade with midnight blue shutters - it could easily have passed for any other house on a city suburb. The living room was almost as well done, and the couple couldn't help but smile.

"Am I worth the 'yes' now?" Harry asked jokingly.

"Maybe," Ginny kidded back, absently fingering her ring. "Are we going to check out the bedrooms this time around?"

The last house they created, they didn't even bother looking at the master and guest bedrooms, simply because they knew they'd be as horrid as the living room and kitchen. Hopefully this time around - with the experience they'd gathered from the previous attempt - they'd have turned out as well as the living room.

"Absolutely," Harry replied, and they made their way down the small hallway. Once they entered the room, he said, "Wait, why is the bed so small? Mine was almost twice as big. Ginny?"

Ginny hid a blush. "Well, I was thinking, big beds are nice, but... if we had a smaller bed, we'd be sleeping closer together."

Harry smiled. "Here, I want to show you something." He walked over to the bed and slipped under the covers. "You coming?"

"Harry!" Ginny said with a heated blush, obviously a bit scandalized.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Not _that_. Come on, I want to show you something."

Ginny looked at him distrustfully, but joined Harry on the bed. She snuggled against him, curling her arms around him. "Mmmmmm... see, isn't this nice?" she asked.

"It is," he replied back. "Let's try a nap." Harry watched as her eyes closed and her breathing began to gently slow. After a few minutes, she let out a murmur as if she was having a mildly uncomfortable dream. Harry knew what it was, though - while she was lightly asleep, she wasn't dreaming - she was uncomfortably warm under the blankets with her clothes on while nestled against another person.

He waited, holding her as she twitched a bit on the bed. Within a minute, she unconsciously rolled away from him, moving away from his body heat. A smile forming on his lips, he watched as she hit the edge. She let out a half-awake squeak before falling completely undignified off the side of the bed.

Ginny stood up, glaring at Harry, almost daring him to laugh - which he wisely did not. "Fine," she said in what was dangerously close to a pout. "A bigger bed will be ok."

Harry stood up as well and tried to take her hand with his. Ginny swatted it away, however, and said grumpily, "You _knew_ I was going to fall off, and you didn't even _try_ to stop me. And don't roll your eyes at me, Mister Potter!"

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


	25. AHJ Cont 3

**Chapter 25**

_T4 – A House Joined (cont.)_

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Ginny still wasn't holding Harry's hand as they were about ready to enter the third bloodred portal. She knew she was being silly, but one of the Weasley traits was pride - pride which had been bent a bit as she fell out of the bed. And it really didn't help that Harry was rolling his eyes at her every few minutes.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Of course," he replied.

They stepped through, and were greeted by almost the same house as before. The main difference was, the shutters were back to the same light-blue the rest of the house was; Harry hadn't colored the shutters this time around, apparently.

"No midnight blue?" Ginny asked, looking at her fiancée.

Harry shook his head. They walked inside, and Ginny immediately saw something was wrong.

"Harry, I think this looks exactly like the half I designed myself."

"I know."

Ginny looked at him with a bit of skepticism, and walked to the master bedroom. "Harry! This bedroom looks just like what I designed, too! Didn't you do anything to yours - paint the walls or add furniture? Or did the meshing enchantment not work for some reason?"

Ginny turned around and watched as her fiancée entered the room behind her. "I didn't do anything to mine," he answered her.

She felt a flare of anger bloom inside of her. "Harry, you _ruined_ this last enchantment! We don't have anymore! Now we won't know what our house would've looked like!"

"Yes we will," he replied softly. "We'll know when we actually get one. I... wanted to know what you wanted."

"What?" Ginny asked, confusion muting the ire.

"Ginny, I could've designed my half exactly how I wanted it, what I think would be perfect, and see what happened when it meshed with yours... but... it's not what I wanted, it's not what's important to me. I wanted to see what _you_ designed, what type of house you pictured us living in together... being married in. I know I used up the last enchantment, but... this means more to me than figuring out what the couch would look like or seeing how large the bed would be."

"Harry," she murmured, anger quickly seeping away, until she found herself leaning up against him.

"We're going to do this again soon enough anyway, only for real. But it doesn't matter what house we're in, Ginny... just as long as you're happy there."

"It doesn't matter to me, either," she said, closing her eyes, feeling the warm wonderful sensation of him wrapping his arms tenderly around her. "I'll be happy as long as you're there with me."

"I love you, Ginny."

"I love you, too, Harry." They shared a soft kiss, and Ginny said with a bit of a quirky smile. "Ok, so you _are_ worth the 'yes' after all."

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Unfortunately, deadlines are approaching, so I'm going to be rapidly posting the rest of the book. This time 6 chapters are getting posted, and the remaining 10 chapters or so will be posted soon. Please give me whatever feedback you can, especially since while I've had time to polish the first half of the book, the last half isn't even completely done in rough draft yet – so I can use all the help I can get in refining these chapters.


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